Spellbinding stories of mystic love and soulful hope . . .

Though I still am publishing my novels through Bellebooks/Bell Bridge books, I wanted to branch out and try out self-publishing on Amazon’s KDP program. And, the best way to do that for me is with my short stories.

These are very short stories and the blurby thang on Amazon will be: “On your lunch hour? Sitting in a waiting room? Need just one little story before you go to sleep? Then download one of Kathryn Magendie’s very short stories, between 3,000 and 6,000 words. “

So, the very first short story, at about 4600 words, is up, live, on sale! Girls On Fire – and I’m nervous and excited and pleased with how easy it is to do, and of course that’s the terrifying part of it, as well. Lawd! I hope you will consider short story reading to your kindles *smiling warmly at y’all*

GIRLS ON FIRE cover art for amazon
I splurged a little on the artwork – choosing the same artist for a series of short stories I’ll publish: Katarzyna Bruniewska-gierczak. These watercolors are beautiful and compelling.

The first three stories cover art:

three set_edited-best_edited-1

family_graces_-_screenIn other news, on Friday the 17th, my novel Family Graces will be on the Amazon Big Deal promo for $1.99 – you all know how much I appreciate all your support! I’ll be back to provide a link to it then. Exciting!

imagesOn an episode of Super Fun Night, (and Rebel Wilson is adorable in this–funny and endearing) the Marika character stands in line for hours just to see the woman who played a “superhero” character on television. Marika wants to tell the woman how much her work means to her, how she admires her—she’s even dressed like the “superhero” character. However, when Marika steps up to have her memento signed, the woman is rude to her. Later, Marika sees her alone and tries again to tell her what her work meant—this time, the “superhero” woman is even ruder, and Marika, disillusioned, goes home and packs away all those mementos. The woman Marika thought she would meet was not the kickass superhero, but instead a bitter shitass of an asshole.

And I, too, was that bitter shitass of an asshole. Yeah. Me. Sweet lil ole kickass Kat.

zoo-signOnly a few months after I’d spent weeks by my father’s side, and then still had to bear his (unexpected) death, I traveled to a conference. I was exhausted, still grieving, but thought the time away would be therapeutic—especially since I’d see my good friends there. Most of the eight hour drive was easy enough, until the last hour when, with growing horror, I realized I had a UTI heading my way—folks who have never had one, well you won’t understand how the very thought of this happening at home is bad enough, but on the road? Oh fuck.

By time I arrive where we are to stay, I’m frantic, calling my doctor, calling the pharmacy at home.  I finally find the “emergency” kit with a few days worth of antibiotics inside and gobble two down, hoping that’ll get me started, knowing, too, those antibiotics are going to make me ill–didn’t care–I know the chills and pain will soon start and am hoping to head them off. When I pull into where we are to stay—a group of little “bungalows—“ my phone rings. My friend: the “bungalows” are horrible. Nasty. In the midst of renovations so weird that nothing makes a lick of sense. We’d have to find someplace else to stay. During a peak tourist season. Eight hours drive. UTI. Grief. Exhaustion. No rooms. Oh, fuck, redux.

Ended up five of us had to share a small hotel room. Of the four women I’d be sharing with, one I had never met, and that’s where the asshole author comes in. Eight hour drive. UTI. Grief. Exhaustion. Five women in one little room. Fuck, fuck, and fuck.

He was an ass . . . but . . .  wasn't I, too?

He was an ass . . . but . . . wasn’t I, too?

I was barely holding onto my Assholeyness, when during the panel I was on the next day, the panel moderator introduced me thusly: “And now, former Playboy Playmate model Kat Magendie!” When I tell you the top of my head blew off, it did, for it was bad enough he’d earlier said to me something to this effect, but now on a panel?, in front of other writers and writer-hopefuls? Ka-BOOM! It seems in slow motion now, the way my head turned to him ooooh-soooo-slooowwwly, and it seems the words spewing from my mouth fling and slap him upside his head: “You fucking call me that again and I’m gonna Kick.Your.Fucking.Ass.” Yeah. I said that. On the panel. With wide eyes staring at me from the audience—although I’d like to think most of them thought, “Hey, he deserved it. You go girl.” Lawd.

The logistics of the crowded hotel room I won’t even relay. I will say that the next few days are a blur of me feeling ill, angry, pissy, crowded, annoyed, exhausted, sleepless, and generally hating everyone on the planet and then some.

And in this state is how the woman I’d never met—a woman who’d read my books and was looking forward to meeting the author behind the words—came to know The Asshole Author. (She was also in the audience of that panel that day, too. Yeah. Oops. Huhn. Lawd.)

bat shit crazy

bat shit crazy

While we can tell ourselves we must always be on our best behavior. While we tell ourselves that our face out to the world should be one of cheerful appreciation for our readers and always to be professional and courteous and kind, honestly, there are times when we just feel like shit, or bat-shit cray-cray. When we are assholes. When we want to bury our heads under the covers and shout: GO AWAY!

We’re human. We’re fallible.

After the conference was over, and once I was home and rested, I contacted the woman, and without giving up excuses (I hate excuses), I apologized to her for being an asshole. Would it have been better for me to keep a happy face and never let that Ass side of me to show? Yup. But was there any possible way that was going to happen during that time? Nope. Probably not.

Next time you meet an author, actor, singer, artist, why, anyone at all, really—whatever/whomever—and they are the Asshole from Hell, maybe, just maybe, give them a little bit of a break. Maybe, just maybe, they are having a hard time, are exhausted, are feeling stretched too thin, are feeling vulnerable and scared. Have nothing Photos, Video, few Words . . . "Granny Kat" in Oregonnothing not a danged ole thing left to give.

The words and worlds we authors create, the face we show on social networking, really IS us, but only a part of us. The part we try not to let you see is the fearful, anxiety-ridden, damaged, fallible, child-like innocence that’s been rattled, hopeful, rageful, Asshole, part of us. But oh, it’s there. Yeah. It’s there all right, and if the conditions are just right, you just may have met that Asshole instead of the person you so hoped to meet.

And for that, we give our most sincere apologies. Except for the Real Assholes—they don’t give a flying fuck one way or another.

002I think you know which one I am. Right? Right!

The Lightning Charmer coverThank you for your kind words and messages about The Lightning Charmer! I am forever grateful, and that, my friends, is the truth.

The Lightning Charmer coverWith apologies (or maybe only just gentle warnings) to my family (poor long-suffering brothers, mom, and son!) I am writing about Sex today. Or, at least the sex in my latest book, The Lightning Charmer.

You see, y’allses, my other  books really did not have sex scenes in them—with the exception of implied sex or heavily metaphored sex Virginia Kate has in the Graces novels .  So, some of my readers, and family, may be going, or in some cases are going, “Well, dang!”

Really, though, folkses, the sex in The Lightning Charmer is tame compared to things we see on HBO/Showtime, or some books out there; it’s not as graphic or as HOTTY HOT HOT (as least this is what my editor tells me, and she knows allllll about that, don’t you, Deborah Smith NYT Best seller? – haw haw *grin*) as it is in some Romance Category books, or Erotica. So, what makes people message me and say, “Omg, this book is hawt! I’m fanning myself” . . . ?

007Is it the suggestion of something otherworldly that fuels the fantasies? Is it the leaving some things to the imagination, and some things not? Sure, there’s a couple of on the edge of graphic sex scenes—there’s angry sex, there’s a  not too graphic scene of oral sex, and there’s masturbation scenes both implied and a little bit more than implied (I counted at least four, maybe five of these—hmmmmm, Kat? Teehee). But still, they aren’t written like Erotica or even like a Hot Romance. And there’s no mention of throbbing body parts at all—there is subtlety mixed in with the real. There’s no  “He pile-drived his throbbing member into her quivering waiting love canal” Omg, I just burst out laughing – haw haw haw! Yeah, I can’t write that way because it makes me laugh! And what we do not want to do when we are writing sex scenes is to laugh. What we want to write is whatever makes us feel HOT, oh so HOT, oh so so very very hot—where we want to shut off the computer and, and . . . get busy. Where we are squirming in our chair every time we read these scenes. Where we are going, “I.Want.That.Now.Please.Please.Please.Please.Please.” For some it’s this and for others it’s that and for me it’s the idea of something so out there that I am imagining it would be AWESOME!

It is the LIGHTNING. The energy. The hot white light. When Laura has a sexual encounter with a lightning bolt, there is that POWER, that searing 040desire, that energy entering her. Who cares that in real life being fucked by a bolt of lightning would not only kill us but hurt like a sumabitch—but in the book, it works, and it is a fantasy that sounds delicious—something powerful and filled with the hottest energy you can imagine, something that hot and filled with INTENT to please, something that fills you with HEAT HEAT HEAT and ENERGY ENERGY ENERGY and . . . oh . . . my . . . gawd! (and I just realized I wrote “fucked by a lightning bolt” – huhn, I didn’t think that til just now . . . lawd!)

ipod pics 012And then there is Ayron. Ah. Ayron. The lightning charmer himself. If he and Laura come together—what might happen with a man who can charm/control lightning? What might sex be like? What might happen if that searing hot light enters them both, zipping through their spines and out their extremities? Or will it happen? Can it happen? Maybe that conflagration is just too much—maybe things just cannot work out that way for them because it would be the end of life as they know it—it would mean nothing else would ever ever be the same. If they can even come together. Sometimes two strong wild creatures can only want want and never have.

ipod pics 014I think why readers (and I don’t know if these readers do not read Hot Romance and Erotica so my sex scenes are hot by comparison) tell me it melted their kindle or burned their hands is because of all the unsaid/unwritten things along with the said/written things. With the possibility of fantasies beyond what maybe anyone has considered before. The way Laura is so very ready for something or someone to calm the Feral Wild Woman nature that is boiling inside her marrow. She must have. She wants. She wants wants wants. She craves craves craves. I think it is this Wanting Craving that readers could be feeling at some core of themselves and through Laura they are saying, “Yes, oh yes, me, too; me too, please please please please oh please!”

Now, if you are reading this and expecting Erotica or a Hot Romance Novel, it is not that, and if that’s what you love and gets you going, then this you may read and go “what’s the big deal?”

But somehow, some way, it is hot all the same. It is heated white light. It is moaning out a want so intense—if the ones reading it have their own want either unfulfilled or once fulfilled and no more, or fulfilled and waiting for what comes next, then the imagination turns feral, wild, wanting.

We are sexual sensual creatures and when I write sex, I hope to tap into that sensual without it being porn or erotica, but instead something that feels real and approachable and full of imagery. What? Oh, you are saying, “Real? But we cannot have sexual encounters with lightning, Kat! DUH!” Oh, but, we can pull that white heated light, that energy, that back arching aching desire into us by the will of our imagination and fantasies. I filled in a lot of blanks in my own head when I wrote, and then read, these scenes. I sure did. Maybe you will, too.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh Yes.

askyourdoctorLIE: I’ll start on that manuscript as soon as I finish this Facebook update.

REALITY: Haw haw haw! You’ll start on that manuscript as soon as you stop sniveling and whining and carrying on about how haaaaarrrrd this is and about how you aren’t appreciated by so and so and such and them and whositwhat. You’ll start on that manuscript as soon as you kick the ass of Fearsome Monster—and Fearsome Monster is difficult to kick the ass of since every time you kick it, YOU are the one who feels the pain. Right? Right. Riiighhht.

Oh, and for some of you out there *Kat gives the personal trainer evil eye* insert “exercise” where starting on manuscript is written. Yeah.  Uh huh.

LIE: If I fit into these jeans comfortably, I’ll stop losing weight. Or: All I want is to fit into my jeans comfortably. Or: My jeans shrunk! No wonder I can’t fit into them comfortably.

cartoonREALITY: If you have any kind of eating disorder/disordered thinking about food/weight, then I am on to you. Oh, I know you mean it when you say it, but I also know those jeans will fit comfortably and then the mind games start up: Well, if they fit comfortably, then what if they fit a little looser ; well, people are telling me I look good, I better not fail them! I better keep this weight off! And in fact, I better lose a few more pounds for a “Safety Net” so I won’t look as if I am failing by gaining it back. If my jeans fit comfortably, I then forget that they once fit tight and I think the “fit comfortably” is now “oh, my jeans should be looser” so I have to lose weight to make them looser and then I may forget how they fit after—you see the circuitous crazy-ass-psycho thinking here? Please god, make it stop, y’all! For those who think their jeans shrunk—I’ll give that to you once, and then after that, LIE LIE LIE!

I’m sure there’s a writing metaphor in there—I’ll leave that to you.

well, sheee'it

well, sheee’it

LIE: Once my novel is published, I will be forevermore happy! I will never want for another thing! I just want to see my book published even if only I read it and maybe a friend or family member or two!

REALITY: HAW HAHAHAHAHAHA HAW HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *gasping for breath* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Yeah, okay, right. It ain’t happenin’ – you will have that book published and then you will want something else. And then something else.  And then maybe something else. Will to! Will to! WILL TO!

*See Above Lie about fitting jeans comfortably – hey! I found a way to tie it to writing. WHUPOW!

LIE: I don’t care!

REALITY: Yes you goddamn do.

It's easy to be sucked down - but then again, I wonder what's in that hole?

It’s easy to be sucked down – but then again, I wonder what’s in that hole?

LIE: I’m SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO happy for so and so’s: weight loss, publishing contract, award, accolades, rise to the Kindle Millionaire list, cash flow, new baby, face, body, legs, breasts, lips, ass, writing, husband, wife, dog, cat, house, car . . . .

REALITY: I’ll give you this one, that you really are happy for them,  but with a caveat: though you may be truly happy for this person, there is a tiny part of you that may feel like shit on a big fat ugly ass stick that you have not accomplished these things or do not have these things and may never have these things or most certainly will never have these things or may always want want want and never have have have. And meanwhile, someone is envying you for what you have, and on and on it goes. What I will tell you if envy hits: Own it.  Own up to it. It just could be the thang that spurs you on. But when envy turns to Jealousy, when you are being eaten alive by it, then it’s time to take stock—it’s time to consider the realities: can you have it? Do you really want it? How much will it cost you (not just in $)? And how do you pull yourself out of your Green-Eyed Monster’s Ass?

Hey! He has more seeds than I do! BASTARD!

Hey! He has more seeds than I do! BASTARD!

I always say: A teaspoon (or even a tablespoon) of Envy is a great motivator. But Jealousy is destructive and negative and big ass ugly.

Also, I will tell you: Sometimes going to that person and congratulating them and really meaning it, feeling their happiness, feeling good for them, will make the envy lose some of its power—you face the demon of your own lacking, your own wanting and can’t (or not yet) having.

What lies do you tell yourself and do you or will you recognize the reality?

(*and folks – The Lightning Charmer is now on sale at Amazon and at Bell Bridge Books site. The “official release date” is November 1, so it should be going up for sale at other places, like Nook and bookstores and wherever else books go to find their ways to wonderful readers’ hands. I thank you all for your support. I *heart* you dearly*)

The Lightning Charmer cover

The Lightning Charmer coverY’all know how much I detest the “author spamming” stuff, so it’s difficult for me to go on my FB page or to come here and talk about my novels, and if you scroll down my blog posts and FB updates, you will see I rarely do that. However, it’s difficult, no it’s impossible, not to say “It’s here!” when a new book is released, or if I have other good news — like promotions or whatever.

And so, now I can say, at least for Amazon, The Lightning Charmer is here! Amazon always jumps out of the gate first, it seems. The “official” release date is November 1, but Amazon already has The Lightning Charmer up in print and e-book.

I’ve always been excited about a new release, but I find this time it hasn’t fully hit me yet. Perhaps when I receive my author copies I’ll hold one in my hands and do my usual writing a personal note to myself in it and feel it – FEEL IT – F.E.E.L. I.T.. But for now? I’m caught in a surreal weird-land of Not Yet Feeling It. I went to the Amazon page and stared at it – yup, it’s there; it’s real; it’s happening, but still – LAWD!

What is my hope for my book out with Amazon first? Well, that it will climb in the charts of course, and that it will receive good reviews of course, and that it will do well on Goodreads, as well, of course, since Amazon and Goodreads are combined (from what I understand). But will I be looking at my ranking and checking reviews? Nope! Not I, says the Kat! *haw* – Because I don’t keep up with reviews and rankings, and I believe that reviews are for the readers, not for authors to go poking her head in and looking around and commenting.

 

As well, I learned from my wise editor Deborah Smith (who is a best-selling author herself and please google her and check out her books!) never to go hunting up reviews, and stop looking at rankings. The only time that it may be advised to celebrate rankings is if someone contacts me and says, “Your book is climbing the charts and is in the top 100 and writer's blodkaclimbing!” Then I can go “Whoohooooooo!” *laughing* yeah. That happened with Tender Graces — made it to Number 1 and caused The Help to be Number 2 -sure did, but at the time I didn’t understand what was happening, so I didn’t talk about it – Duh, Kat!

So, y’all, if you want use Amazon as your book source, and you think you would like to read my latest, then I invite you to it. If you only want to say “Congrats, Kat!” and not to read my book, that’s fine, too! I never expect everyone to be interested in what I write–even friends and family! If you want to send me chocolate and vodka to help me to control my jittery, well, that’s awesome! *laughing*

Now, I’m going to try to control the jitters in my stomach–this book is different from my others and I admit so much nervousness in the hopes my “Regular Readers” who have been such wonderful “fans” of my work, will love TLC and be happy with the new direction I took.

A little more about The Lightning Charmer Here on my website.

Y’all are awesome. All of you.

I am at Writer Unboxed today. If you are not a member, then get ye over there and check it out. Not just for my ramblings today, but for all the kickass offerings there. A wonderful group! They’re on twitter and Facebook, as well.

I was on a panel yesterday in the beautiful city of Hayesville, NC, and was reminded of how much fun blogging and blogs and bloggers can be – I promise to do better here. I do! I do! I do! *grins at you every so sincerely*

At Writer Unboxed today:

_______________________________________

2f95c122-b7f3-4ea9-8afb-ed71deb90477_zps0f985647Today’s guest is Kathryn Magendie, the author of five novels and a novella published through Bell Bridge Books—most recently The Lightning Charmer coming out this month. She’s also the Publishing Editor of The Rose & Thorn (which just recently closed its doors after fifteen years), and former Personal Trainer. She lives in a little log house tucked within a cove in Maggie Valley, Western North Carolina—where all the wild things are.

Of her post today, Kathryn says…

Thoughts of the “isolation” of this job came to me when I realized most every character I write is lonely. Then I recognized that I, me, myself, lil ole Kat Magendie, was deeply, incredibly, sadly, lonely. Well, danged if I didn’t feel right pitiful. I then read other WU posts, other author’s FB updates and Twitter feeds, and realized that feeling of isolation is shared—we’re all at one big banquet table, but the banquet table has partitions so that even though we’re surrounded by people, we’re still eating alone. I allowed myself to feel pitiful for about a week, and then I decided it was time to do something about the isolation. We’re much more than we appear to be, we band of writers, we.

You can find Kathryn on Twitter and Facebook and on her blog. More about her books here.

The “Isolated Author”

We can see the clichéd “isolated author,” one who writes in her fuzzy socks, a bottle of vodka—make that a healthy smoothie, yeah—by her side, creating micro-worlds where tiny-in-our-peahead-but-oh-so-much-bigger-than-life characters frolic and play and bring joy and epiphanies to all the land of readers. Farther pan out and see the writer hunched over her keyboard, ever more pan out and see the study she sits in with books and pens and pencils and chapstick and good luck charms and crumbs littering her keyboard and lap, and farther still to see her little log house, and outward we go ever outward to the Moon. And there we’ll stop a moment and consider just how tiny this author is. Just how inconsequential, miniscule. All the scurrying and living and loving and being around her is muffled and dark because all she experiences is: “tippity tappity tippity tappity tippity tappity *slurp munch* tippity tappity.”

The truth is, the more an author puts herself out there (But of course I mean you guys, too—we’re genderless in the World of Writing), the more isolated she becomes. The more public her life, the more private she must be. It’s an insidious endeavor, one she doesn’t recognize until it is almost too late—when the crazies visit upon her *picture here the Harpies from Jason and the Argonauts, feasting upon the sanity laid out in bounty upon the table until there’s nothing left but scraps of rational thought.*

FOR THE REST OF THE ARTICLE, CLICK HERE

Welp, here ’tis – the cover art for The Lightning Charmer. It’ll be out this month. Something a little different from my former novels. I’m excited and happy, and I hope my readers will love Laura, Ayron, Betty, the crows, the wolf-dog, the lightning, the sex, the love, the supernatural, the fire — I hope my readers will love it all. *Fingers Tightly Crossed*

The Lightning Charmer cover

 

 

 

A haunted man shadows the Smoky Mountain forest. A lonely woman returns to what she left behind. A legacy unfulfilled calls out to them both. .

The sky darkens, the lightning seeks . . .  

The Lightning Charmer is full of whimsy, enchantment, ancient secrets, and dark earthy seduction.  Magendie taps into those primal secret places we all harbor, with a powerful story of learning where one fits in a world that may not fit us.  Braided with color, humor, and loyalty to family, this is storytelling at its best!  Sharla Lovelace, Bestselling and Award Winning author of THE REASON IS YOU

The spell was cast when they were children. That bond cannot be broken. In the deep hollows and high ridges of the ancient Appalachian mountains, a legacy of stunning magic will change their lives forever.

Laura is caught between the modern and the mystical, struggling to lead a normal life in New York despite a powerful psychic connection to her childhood home in North Carolina—and to the mysterious stranger who calls her name. She’s a synesthete—someone who mentally “sees” and “tastes” splashes of color connected to people, emotions, and things. She’s struggled against the distracting ability all her life; now the effects have grown stronger. She returns home to the mountains, desperate to resolve the obsessive pull of their mysteries.

But life in her mountain community is far from peaceful. An arsonist has the town on edge, and she discovers Ayron, scarred and tormented, an irresistible recluse who rarely leaves the forest. As her childhood memories of him surface, the façade of her ordinary world begins to fade. The knots she’s tied around her heart and her beliefs start unraveling. Ayron has never forgotten her or the meaning of their astonishing bond. If his kind is to survive in modern times, he and Laura must face the consequences of falling in love.

Hey, all y’allses wonderfuls. No no, I’m not flying in oblivion; okay, I am, but I done told y’all I wouldn’t post unless I had news, or something I wanted to say, or just felt like it, or the 8th sign of the Apocalypse happened and I had to gush over it, or . . . . etc etc etc. Cause I’m just that chaotic. yeah.

So, today’s news is that in about 30 minutes from now, at 3:00 PM my time, I’m going to be on the radio at NorthwestPrime.com -

For those of you who asked for  the archived file, it is HERE on NorthwestPrime. 

If’n you want to give it a listen, great.  I’m always appreciative of my readers and any interest *smiling*

Later, y’all!

733918_358280667610103_1586754340_n

Keep your eye on the prize, y'all

1. Well, since you asked—more than I want to admit.

 
2. Yes, I have, and it hurt like the dickens.

 
3. When hell freezes over, you jackass.

 
4. I might, if I have enough vodka tonics racing through my veins—teeheehee. Oh You!

 
 5. Because if I don’t, the voices in my head take over by shouting and jumping up and down and punching me in the brain and playing football with my synapses and it ain’t pretty, and in fact, is rather disturbingly weirdly fascinating.

 
6. I will if you will.

 
7. There is no evidence. You can’t prove it.

 
116-0018. Yes, they are real; they have always been real; they will forevermore be real; they have been real since 5th or 6th grade and they will be real when I die. Everything from the tippity top to the bittity bottom is Real and Mine. Please stop asking.

 
9. A lot more than you think *coy smile*

10. Three big huge earth-shattering ones, but I was alone. *winks*

For those of you who don’t visit my facebook page, I have the sad news that Professor Dawg, who often accompanied my writing posts and workout posts, has left us. We had to let him go a few weeks ago on the vet’s table–I was in Oregon and didn’t get to say a final goodbye; though I’d been saying goodbye to him for a few months before his death, as he’d been ill. He was a good dawg and a good friend. He will be very much missed.

Goodbye Jake . . . Professor Dawg. I won’t be able to use Professor Dawg’s photo here any more after today – it would just break my heart.

my workout buddy

my workout buddy


This woman's face in my hair is not a touched up photo - it really did just show up in the photo - about a week before he died.

This woman’s face in my hair is not a touched up photo – this woman’s face really did just show up in the photo – about a week before he died.


Professor Dawg

Professor Dawg

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